Balance
by CemK
Summary: Post "So the Drama". Shego has a chat with Kim.


Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible

**AN: This story takes place an unspecified time after ****So the Drama****.**

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**_Balance_**

"Mind if I sit here?" Shego asks.

"Oh, It's OK," Kim answers absentmindedly. She takes a sip of her diet coke while looking outside the window. "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend, and he'll probably be here in fifteen minutes, so..."

She stops. Slowly, very slowly, she turns her head, and looks at the older woman sitting across the table.

"Hey, Princess." Shego smiles.

Kim's beverage gets stuck in her throat. She starts coughing, violently. Shego shifts in her seat to avoid the mixture of saliva and artificial sugar.

As her coughing fit dies down, Kim wonders why they aren't fighting. When she sees Shego, she fights her, period. Now, though, she feels oddly relaxed.

It was a tiring school day. She and the rest of the cheering squad were having some trouble getting used to a new routine she had devised, and Bonnie was giving her hell. _And_ there was the Chemistry pop quiz that left both her and Ron stymied. She knew it was going to come, as Ron seems to have a knack for predicting the dates of quizzes with startling accuracy. Cramming the required work after missions in backs of cargo planes wasn't enough anymore, apparently. Saving the world is a time consuming job, unfortunately.

So Kim leans on her back, and looks at Shego. If there is anyone that can help her get her mind off of things, it's... well, it's Ron. Shego's a close second, though.

"How can I help you today?" she asks her.

Shego folds her hands together, and leans on the table. She's dressed very casually, Kim notices. Sweatpants, loose long sleeved t-shirt, gloves, and sneakers. All black. It accentuates her abnormally pale skin color. Odd choice for a summer day, though.

"I want to make sure you know something," she says.

Kim waits for her to elaborate, curious.

"I understand your anger. I understand your pain. Hell, I don't know what I'd do in your situation. Our plan..." She stares right into Kim's eyes. She's not blinking at all.

"There is one thing I wouldn't do, though. I know that for a fact."

Kim finishes her coke with a loud gulp. She places the cup on the table. "And what is that?"

"I would never kick someone into an electric tower, in rain nonetheless, knowing full well she's going to live through it, survive, and suffer, suffer so much, that she'd wish she was _dead_." Shego smiles.

Kim knows she must react. She should stand up, and yell at her with righteous indignation. She should make a sarcastic comment. She should apologize. She should fight her, and then maybe say she's sorry.

She yawns. She's so tired today.

Shego takes off the thin, leather glove off of her right hand. It shines under the gaze of the brilliant noon sky outside the window, but Kim notices something completely different.

Shego's hand. The back of her hand is riddled with thin, angry red scars. They make it look like a broken piece of fine porcelain. She casually makes a fist, and the marks make themselves even more apparent than usual.

"I never knew I could scar," Shego says. She puts the glove back on. "My hands produce plasma, so you'd think I'd be invulnerable to fire, or burns. Apparently not."

Kim nods. She considers calling Ron so that they can go eat some snacks at her house instead. They can snuggle on a couch there and rest for a while, she thinks.

Shego's expression remains unfazed. So, she sighs. "This time, it's okay. I'm OK with what you did to me. In a way, I deserved it. I'm OK with it." She releases a shaky breath, and breaks her stare.

"You know, when I was recovering, and Drakken was in prison, he sent me this mail, apologizing. For everything he did. Every failed scheme, every single time I was hurt, captured, mind controlled... he didn't miss a single instance. The guy really has a phenomenal memory, it seems. Anyway, he apologized for all of them. Never thought the big blueberry had it in him. He was probably too depressed or something."

She flexes her fingers, one by one. Kim watches as they pop audibly.

"He gave me this idea. If he, the mega egomaniac man-child, can face his own feelings and do something so unlike him, well, I can't stand him having that over me. So here I am."

Kim twiddles her fingers. She waits. She feels numb all over.

So, here it goes. You've almost killed me, deliberately, on your own volition. Now, you can go after Drakken, and I'll be there to stop you, and we'll dance like we always do.

Shego takes a deep breath, and looks at the sunny road sprawling outside. She then looks at Kim, her gaze sharp as a hawk.

"If you try to target me, and get rid of me, specifically, again, you will have only one more chance. Because if you fail, and you will, trust me, I will kill you."

Kim can't move. She feels as if she is paralyzed. All of her four limbs feel as if there are alien appendages attached to her body, and she can't shake off this fog permeating throughout her brain.

"I will kill you. I will kill your miserable friends, starting from _him_, your mother, your father, your brothers... and every single goddamn person who owes you a favor."

Shego exhales, her glove encased nails tapping softly on the plastic table. Kim can't do anything but look at her.

She watches as Shego stands up. A midnight colored backpack she hasn't noticed before slips on her shoulders with a whip of cloth. Grabbing a napkin from the middle of the table, Shego reaches out and carefully swipes off a piece of drool attempting to free itself from Kim's mouth.

She looks at her still form. "Don't worry," she says. "It's slow acting. You'll remember nothing about this conversation when you come back to your senses. It'll just be a dream for you, maybe. I don't know. I'm immune. I wish I could forget. I-," she pauses.

"You'll be fine, as always."

Sneakers squeak, squeak, and then Kim hears nothing.

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End file.
